Tales of Bombs and Beloveds
by Kelly of the midnight dawn
Summary: Olivia is offered another undercover assignment by the FBI. Elliot isn't gonna be happy. What will he do? Murderers, rapists and a militia bent on governmental distruction not to mention budding romance. Just another day for our two favorite detectives.
1. Prologue: Casualty

Tales of Bombs and Beloveds

**Tales of Bombs and Beloveds**

**Prologue: Casualty**

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. Sad but true.**

**A/N: This might end up being one of the craziest stories I've ever written. Basically, things are as they were left hanging at the end of season nine but I probably won't refer to any season nine episodes and I may just decide that Fin decided to stay put after all.**

**A/N2: Things are gonna get crazy. I remind some of my more reality and fact oriented readers that I don't know many things about certain subjects and some of this stuff I just made up off the top of my head because it is fiction and is to be enjoyed as such. So I bid you, ENJOY!**

The house on the hill lay in darkened silence. The gloomy path still bore the footprints of the last person to travel down it. But the moment the wind began to pick up, the dust in which the impressions were made quickly settled, erasing the last trace that someone had visited that night.

The door hung open but no one from the road would have noticed. The old fashioned door knocker had been ripped from its hinges and seemed to have disappeared. The wind blew the door open a fraction of an inch more. The sound that the hinges made as they moved ever so slightly resembled moaing more than anything else.

Inside, the entry way was dark, seemingly darker than the night outside. A lamp, that must have once held a prominent place on the entry way table, lay on the floor, broken into several pieces. The pieces almost seemed to form an arrow, pointing down the hall. It was if the lamp was trying to say something.

The living room was an absolute mess. Pillows flung in all different directions, the two wineglasses that had been sitting upon the coffee table having clattered to the floor and shattered into a million tiny shards. The beloved terrier coward in the corner, a trail of urine leading back to the couch cushion he had occupied earlier that night as his mistress showered him with her attention.

This travesty would have been viewed with sheer horror by his mistress if it weren't for the fact that she was already dead, lying in a pool of blood that soaked the rug beneath her lifeless body.

The terrier crept back to where his mistress lay and nudged her in the hopes that she would awaken him and shower him with more praise. But she didn't. The small dog howled in concert with the wind and laid down beside her. That is until the storm hit.

The gradually increasing winds were soon joined by giant raindrops which pelted the windows of the house, sounding like tiny bullets. It wasn't long before the whole grisly scene was illuminated by a brilliant flash of lightening and a crack of thunder that was louder than anything the little dog had ever heard before in his life, seemingly millions of times louder than the screams of his mistress when she had pleaded for her life.

The little dog ran for cover once more and mistakenly ran out of the house into the dark night. Once he was outside, he didn't dare turn back, he just kept running as fast as his furry little legs would allow, leaving the house and the horrible memories of that night behind.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I told you she was going to get herself into trouble," Agent Dean Porter grumbled as he picked his way through the bloody crime scene. He came upon the shattered wine glasses "What did I tell her about this?" he muttered.

"You told her not to get drunk and blow her cover," Agent Dana Lewis told him from across the room where she was examining a torn piece of paper that lay next to the phone "And I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have," she was finally able to make out the chicken scratch on the paper in front of her "She was meeting someone for drinks yesterday around six thirty," Dana said thoughtfully.

"What's the name?" Dean questioned, already turning his attention to his temporary partner. The person who had met their dear little Lilly Cole was the most likely suspect.

"Can't make it out," Dana grumbled as she squinted at the note. Poor Paige did always have the worst hand writing. Dana had always insisted that Paige not try to slip her hand written notes when she needed to talk. Dana wondered if Paige had wanted to see her sometime the previous afternoon, if there was something that Paige was suspicious of.

"Damn," Dean hissed "I told her she shouldn't become involved with anyone."

"And she was listening," Dana spat back. Poor innocent Paige Morgan was one of the FBI's brightest young field agents. She was only twenty seven years old and Dana had known that she wouldn't be ready for an undercover. But Paige had insisted and in a matter of days, she had been transformed into young, naïve Lilly Cole.

Paige was supposed to come to Littlefield Texas to infiltrate a militia group that was suspected in the bombings of several government buildings in Dallas, Austin and Phoenix Arizona just to name a few. She was supposed to gather evidence, call them in to arrest key militia members, be a hero and save the day. She wasn't supposed to end up raped and stabbed.

Dana felt so guilty as she looked down at the half naked body of the girl she had taken under her wing. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Dana knew in her heart that whatever happened, it didn't happen because Paige got 'involved' with someone.

"Come on," she said sadly, not bothering to look in Dean's direction "We need to get out of here before someone starts asking questions," she returned the note to its place beside the phone. They would have to let local law enforcement handle the case for now, they couldn't risk blowing Paige's cover, even in death, not if they intended to send someone else to Littlefield. And with what was potentially at stake, they couldn't afford not to send someone.

Dean nodded and followed Dana out of the house and to the shady secluded spot where they had parked "You think anyone else in the bureau will even touch this assignment?"

Dana sighed "We can't trust any of them in our department anymore," Paige's death was just the latest in a long string of events that led Dana to believe that they had a leek in their already short staffed department. That just meant fewer people they could trust.

"You don't think," Dean chuckled and looked over at her "I know that Buck Foster has a lot of money and I know the rumors about him bribing some of the local politicians and the like to look the other way on some stuff but… an FBI agent? One of ours? I doubt it."

"Think what you want," Dana shot angrily in his direction "But we can't send anyone from the bureau back there without making absolutely sure that we can trust everyone we work with."

"Do you mean on this operation specifically or should we be questioning the entire organization from the director down to every last mail clerk in every field office in the country?" he laughed?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Ass," Dana muttered under her breath. Dean's laid back attitude was really disturbing. She turned to him "Maybe I should just be questioning you."

Dean pulled the car over "Look," he said seriously "I'm sorry I'm just not willing to believe that anyone I know could be corrupted by Foster."

Dana looked out the window "Just drive," she sighed exasperatedly. She let her eyes drift closed as they left the seemingly peaceful scenery of Littlefield behind. She wished she'd been more steadfast in her objection to sending Paige in the first place but she had been so prepared, so confident. Dana fought to control herself before she started crying.

The silence in the car was beginning to get to Dean "I miss her too you know," he said finally.

"I know you do," Dana said dismissively.

"I talked protocol with her over and over again for a reason," he said quietly "She knew what she was doing. None of what happened to her makes sense. You're right, there has to be a leek, it's the only explanation… I just… I can't bring myself to believe it… I still don't think I can but… Paige was ready for this," there were tears in his voice now.

Out of curiosity Dana turned to look at him. He was crying "I shouldn't have let her go," she said quietly.

"It was her choice," Dean spoke quietly "I think she would have gone whether she had the support of the bureau or not. She wanted to get this guy just as much as we do," he gritted his teeth and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes "And we're gonna get him," he swore.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Trent Abraham," Dana looked at the tenth file of the night spread open in front of her on the motel room bed. She and Dean had hopped a relatively inexpensive flight from Dallas to New York City, hoping to find the help they needed in the New York field office. They'd tried to keep as low a profile as possible, in case the leek had any connections to this part of the country. Keeping a low profile could be quite disgusting sometimes, Dana decided, like when it came to sharing a motel room with Dean Porter.

"Straight shooter," Dean replied without even looking at the file "As honest as they come but for some reason I don't think he'll be able to infiltrate Foster's little gang."

"Why not?" Dana asked, reading through the file. He seemed like a perfect candidate.

"He's Jewish," Dean stated "If we know anything at all about Foster's little social gatherings, they are very white, very Christian get-to-gethers."

Dana sighed. She hated that Dean was right. She opened the next file "I'm still getting him out here to help us," she said with yet another sigh.

"Good idea," Dean agreed "He's great with surveillance."

"There'll be nothing to survey if we we've got no one to send back to Littlefield," Dana growled in pure frustration as she through all of the files onto the floor "Not one person who would could make there way into Foster's inner circle."

Dean picked up the filed and dropped them onto the nightstand. He settled himself on the other bed. He grabbed the TV remote "I'm sure there's someone," he yawned "Let's get some sleep and go over the files again in the morning."

"How am I supposed to sleep with you watching that thing?" Dana asked as she rolled onto her other side and tried to block out the sounds of the television.

A story on the evening news caught her attention. "What was that?" she asked, rolling back around to face Dean on the other bed "Turn it up."

There had been another bombing. Both agents were shocked. This was a long way from Texas. The reporters didn't make the connection but from the details they gave it was obvious to both Dana and Dean knew that this latest attack belonged in the same file as the attacks down south.

"They're getting too good at this," Dana said flatly as she allowed her body to fall limply on the bed.

"Luckily no one was seriously hurt," a man on TV who was being interviewed by the reporter said "The bomb was discovered long before detonation and the building was mostly empty when it went off."

"I know that guy," Dana said introspectively.

"Yeah," Dean said, propping his head up with his elbow "We both know him. That's Captain Cragen. The building that got bombed was the 16th precinct."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"El…?" Olivia asked in a small whisper of a voice as they stared at the building. There was so much damage that it was hard to believe that no one had died in the explosion.

"Right here," he assured her, squeezing her hand tight. It had all happened so fast he wasn't even sure of the details himself. Once the bomb had been discovered a swift and effective evacuation had been put into effect. It had worked. But staring at the remnants of the place they had been in only half an hour earlier, Elliot couldn't help thinking about all the ways it could have all gone wrong.

"Shouldn't you call Kathy," Olivia said, looking pointedly over her shoulder at the reporters and cameras "You might want to get to her before the sensationalism of mass media does."

Elliot laughed "You'd better be careful," he chided as he reached for his cell phone "You don't want to turn into Munch now do you?" he fumbled around in his pocket only to realize that his phone was still inside the crumbling building. He was at least able to find his car keys and wallet "I guess I should go home and let her know in person," he said feeling a bit foolish.

He really didn't want to go home and face Kathy, even if it was just to let her know that he was fine. The fighting had been getting worse. Their conversations seemed to dissolve far too quickly into arguments over the smallest things.

He turned to his partner and smiled gently "Need a lift?" he asked.

Olivia nodded "Yeah, thanks," she followed him to his car, avoiding the prying eyes and probing questions of any reporter who got close enough to shout at either of them.

The ride back to her place was quiet and passed by much quicker than she wanted it to. When they reached her building, Elliot parked and got out. He came around to where she was standing and took her hand again. He was instantly surprised at how cold it felt "You okay?" he asked softly.

"I think I'm gonna need some vacation time," she smirked a bit. There was a part of her that was seriously considering the mandatory leave Cragen had offered to all of the people who had still been in the squad room when the desk sergeant had started screaming about a bomb.

"Me too," Elliot admitted. The truth was that near death experiences usually merited a break, time to step back and look at one's life.

Elliot cupped his partner's face in his hands and for a moment it looked like he was about to kiss her but something made him pull away. He'd seen something out of the corner of his eye and instantly went on alert.

Olivia had seen it too. She already had her hand on her gun when one of the two shadowy figures took a step towards them. The shadows slowly disappeared from the figure's face as it drew closer to a street lamp. Soon the two detectives could tell that the figure was a woman.

"Detective Benson?" the sweet southern twang of Agent Dana Lewis's voice reached them sound of passing traffic "We could really use your help."


	2. Chapter 1: Undercover Again

**Tales of Bombs and Beloveds**

**Chapter 1: Undercover… Again**

**A/N: This chapter took me a long time to write. I hope it turned out okay. I've gotta say that I've had this story planned out in my mind for like six months at least. But it's the filling in the details that's the hard part, so please bear with me. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the prologue.**

"I won't go undercover again," Olivia said steadfastly as she glared across her living room at her two unwelcome late night visitors. The two agents sat across from the couch. Dana sat in a chair that Olivia had brought for her while Dean, in all his irksome glory, had taken Olivia's desk chair and spun it around to face the couch, sitting in it, looking as comfortable as if this place were his own home.

Elliot sat beside Olivia on the couch, perhaps a bit too close but Olivia really didn't mind. His protective posturing was keeping Dean at bay. The two men's eyes met occasionally and always Dean was the first to break eye contact. It was something Olivia would have found amusing if it weren't for the current situation.

"We need someone we can trust," Dana told her, leaning forward slightly with a pleading look in her eyes.

"Find someone else," Elliot sudden and angry outburst surprised everyone in the room. He slid his hand to cover Olivia's where it lay on the cushion. He held it tight, almost possessively. He didn't want to lose her to another undercover assignment. He didn't want to be without her for weeks or even months on end.

It had barely been an hour and a half since they'd both almost been blown to pieces. Elliot's mind and heart were still full of racing, confusing emotions. He needed time to figure them out. Lines between partnership, friendship and love were already blurred before the explosion and though he wasn't aware of it yet, those lines had very nearly ceased to exist.

"There is no one else," Dean stated simply. He looked at the file he held as he spoke as way of avoiding another staring contest with Elliot.

"We suspect a leak in the department," Dana clarified "We need someone that the inside man can't identify."

"Why me?" Olivia asked, confused. She turned her hand palm up beneath Elliot's and grasped it. Just the thought of going undercover again scared her. Maybe it had something to do with her undercover in SealView or maybe she just didn't want to be alone. As long as she held on to Elliot, she wasn't alone.

"Because," Dean said simply "You're the best person for the job."

"You're so full of crap," Elliot growled, eyeing Dean suspiciously. He didn't trust the guy as far as he could throw him, and with every word that came out of his mouth made Elliot believe that throwing him was a damned good idea.

Olivia flashed a stern look in her partner's direction. It was true that his presence made her feel more at ease with the agents in her apartment but his behavior was starting to bug her. She wondered what was going through his mind when his eyes met hers for a moment too long as they often had before. Those eyes said so many things, things Olivia could usually read but this time she couldn't understand what he wanted to tell her in that brief glance. Or was it that she did understand but her heart wasn't ready to accept it?

"We've tried to find someone else," Dana interjected calmly. She shot Dean a chastising sidelong glance and continued "There's no one that Agent Porter or I could trust more than you." She reached across and took the folder that Dean was holding away from him, leaving Dean to glance awkwardly around the room. Dana opened the file "We need you Olivia," she said as she spread the photos on the coffee table in front of her.

Elliot and Olivia both stared down at the remains of charred buildings and charred bones that stared back up at them from the photographs "What is this?" Olivia finally managed to ask.

"We suspect that it's the work of a militia group lead by this man," Dana placed another photo on the table "Buck Foster. We just don't have the evidence to connect him directly to the bombings. We need you to get it for us."

"What?" Elliot was incredulous. He resisted the overwhelming urge to wrap his arm around Olivia's waist and pull her closer to him, hold on to her so tight that they could never take her. Somehow, he managed to remain sitting there simply holding tighter to her hand.

"And how am I supposed to get this evidence?" Olivia asked a bit nervously.

"You have a way with people," Dean spoke up "You make some friends, show up to a meeting or two at Foster's house. Get him to trust you, let you into his inner circle and hopefully allow you access to their plans."

"And you want her to do this by herself?" Elliot asked, tilting his head to the side and watching the two agents with suspicion and contempt.

"No," Dana said quickly. That had been the original plan but as she sat in Olivia's living room, she'd thought of a new plan. It was too dangerous to send someone alone. Paige had been fair game for the single men in Foster's group. Dana wouldn't put rape and murder past any of those people whether they had known her true identity or not.

"What?" Dean asked, he had not been let in on this new plan and he didn't like being undermined by someone who was supposed to be working with him.

Dana shot him a death glare and he fell silent immediately. She turned back to Olivia "You should know that you aren't the first person we've sent undercover in Littlefield." She pulled out her wallet, not having a file photo of Paige at hand, and pulled out a picture of her friend taken just before she went undercover.

"What happened to her?" Olivia asked as the lively green eyes of the curly haired brunette stared back at her from the picture in her hand.

"She was murdered," Dean said flatly from his corner of the room. He pulled out his own wallet "Here's a better picture," he handed Olivia a bigger picture of Paige.

Olivia held the picture in her hands. The young woman smiled and seemed to be looking to her right. The right edge of the picture was worn and a bit uneven as if it had been torn. "Who killed her?" Olivia asked.

"We don't know," Dana told her "We can't risk sending agents down there to conduct an investigation while we're still trying so keep tabs on Foster's organization. We can't risk him taking his operation underground."

Elliot saw the way that Olivia was staring at Paige's picture. He knew that look, the look that told him that she was going to do anything to get justice for a victim. He sighed. He knew he couldn't let her go alone "If she goes, I go," he told the two agents.

Olivia's eyes sought his out. Her mouth fell open just a fraction of an inch, not enough that Dean or Dana would have noticed. He couldn't just pick up and leave. He had a family. It wasn't like he could disappear as easily as she could. After all, he was one of the few personal connections she had to this city.

"Just what I was thinking," Dana smiled.

"You were?" Dean turned to her with a surprised expression on his face.

"We've tried the single woman angle," Dana began "And you saw how that worked. A nice, unassuming married couple might just be able to do the job."

Dean seemed thoughtful for a moment but then he nodded. "Poor Mrs. Foster's been looking for a kindred spirit."

Olivia squeezed Elliot's hand tight "I'd rather go alone," she forced the words out of her mouth. She didn't want to go alone but she had no doubt in her mind that she had to do this. If she didn't try, there would be more bombings. Not everyone would be as lucky as the people at the precinct earlier that evening.

Elliot shook his head "And who's gonna watch your back?" he asked.

"We will," Dean said, firmly.

"No offence," Elliot's tone implied that those words were a lie, "But the last person you were supposed to protect ended up dead."

Dean stood up and clenched his hands into tight fists at his sides. This time, when he stared Elliot down, neither man wavered. Elliot rose from his seat on the couch and stood toe to toe with Dean, glowering at him.

Olivia, realizing that this confrontation was going to end only one way, rose and tried to avert the disaster "Break it up," she said firmly, grabbing Elliot's arm and trying to guide him back to the couch.

Elliot, calmed by her presence at his side, relaxed. But Dean took the chance to strike, springing forward. But because Olivia pushed Elliot back into his seat at the exact right moment, Dean's punch went right over his head.

"Now that's enough," Dana yanked Dean back by his shirt collar. Dean missed the chair completely and bounced off the corner of Olivia's desk to land in a heap on the floor. Dana, like the two detectives, had to fight quite hard not to laugh. Dana turned to Elliot and Olivia "Both of you in?"

Elliot and Olivia shared a long look. When they turned back to Dana they both nodded. "I'm in," Olivia told Dana.

"So am I," Elliot said resolutely.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I'm not letting you disappear on me again," Elliot told her as they stood in the hallway of the hotel, waiting for Dana and Dean.

Olivia sighed heavily "Elliot, your family. If you come with me on this, you're not gonna get a chance to say goodbye to them. They can't know where you are."

Elliot took her hands in his. He stared into her eyes with such a deep intensity that Olivia had to fight the urge to look away. "I can't let you do this alone. And I'm not gonna leave it up to someone I don't trust, to protect you."

"If you're sure," Olivia said, not really sure herself as she finally turned away from his intense gaze.

Elliot repeated his earlier sentiment "If you're going, I'm going too. We're a team, a package deal," he grinned at her. "After all," he grinned sheepishly at the new wedding ring on his hand "You're my wife, Mrs. Bryce."

Olivia looked up at him, a glimmer of laughter in her eyes. She remembered earlier when they had taken the staged photos. Elliot had looked so cute, all dressed up and from the look on his face, he'd obviously thought she looked nice too. She couldn't forget the flush on his cheeks, though she saw it for only a second before she'd hidden her own face out of embarrassment, when Dana had asked to get a shot of them kissing.

She also remembered clearly, the noise Dean had made as he spit hot coffee all over himself. She would have laughed if she hadn't been so mortified by Dana's suggestion.

But the best part had been when Elliot's blush had faded and he'd smiled at her. "All in the name of duty," he had told her as he cupped her face in his hand gently and pressed his lips to hers. That one kiss had taken her breath away.

"Are you ready?" Dean grumbled as he emerged from the room he had been changing in. He had been in a bad mood ever since Dana had decided to invite Elliot along.

"All set," Dana walked over to Elliot and Olivia, handing them each a small duffle bag and a manila folder. "You'll have plenty of time to memorize your cover stories on the plane ride," she told them.

Elliot and Olivia, now Michael and Julie Bryce, followed the two Agents to the car that would take them to the airport. They sat in the backseat and kept their eyes on their laps for the better part of the journey.

On the plane, Elliot was the first to crack open his file. He scanned the information and looked over at Olivia. "Apparently," he began, drawing her attention away from her own file "We've been married for five years," he informed her.

"Really?" she asked with a tilt of her head and a sly smile "Feels like longer," she quipped.

"Funny," Elliot replied, deadpan.

"I'm a home maker," Olivia moaned. "Not my first choice."

"I tend bar," Elliot countered "I'm not exactly looking forward to that."

"Wanna trade?" Olivia asked, moving as if to hand him her folder.

"I don't think we can," he grinned back at her "You're just gonna have to get used to doing dishes and making beds."

"And you're gonna have to get used to the smell of alcohol and vomit," Olivia laughed. She sighed "I hate doing dishes."

"Doesn't everyone?" Elliot said with a half smile. The two of them were trying to keep the mood light and the anxiety level low before they landed in Dallas.

Olivia chuckled but grew serious suddenly. "Did Dana get in touch with Kathy?" she asked.

"No," Elliot replied quietly. "Cragen will tell her when he can," he let her know.

"How did Cragen take it?" she asked, having not been with Dana when she'd made the call.

"He was… noticeably displeased," Elliot smirked, remembering the sound of his boss's voice over the other end of the phone that Dana had been holding about three feet from her ear. Cragen wasn't too keen on the idea.

Olivia looked out the plane's window "It's gonna be a long flight," she noted.

Elliot nodded "We should try to get some sleep."

Olivia reclined her chair and adjusted herself with the blanket and pillow she had been given earlier. "No argument here," she yawned.

Elliot adjusted his chair likewise. "Goodnight my little homemaker," he joked.

"Consider yourself warned," Olivia's voice sounded weary. "Call me that again, and Kathy's only getting half a husband back."

"Understood," Elliot chuckled. "Goodnight Julia," the new name felt wrong in his mind and in his mouth. "Goodnight Liv," he amended softly.

"'Night El," she whispered. And then, the two of them were silent as each tried to sleep. But they only pretended for the sake of the other. Each one stayed up through the night, wondering and worrying about what awaited them."


End file.
